Touched
by Ravens Kiss
Summary: A gift fic for Seph7. Ms. Frost has been hiding a secret for years and now it has been discovered by the very man she sought to keep it from, but how will he react, and can he manage to overcome the ghosts of his past with the help of his friends?
1. Chapter 1

I accidently replaced this first chapter with a rework for a different story, sorry about the repost.

* * *

The dim Potion's classroom was little more than a blistering and hazy fog of cauldron fumes and oppressive heat as Severus Snape moved slowly and as silent as Death amongst the rows of tables. Although the November wind and rain rallied against the castle's thick walls, the dungeon room was as hot and humid as a sunlit day in the middle of August. Pungent scents filled the air while multi-colored streams of smoke furled in the sluggishly moving air, though the Potion's Master had little concern for his surroundings this afternoon. Perhaps his restlessness was due to the approaching holidays when he would be granted a brief repose from the blathering idiots his colleagues insisted on referring to as "the bright young minds of the future." If these were indeed the young minds that would one day be ruling the Wizarding world, Severus had little hope for the survival of his kind. Or perhaps he had simply grown weary of a monotonous life, in which every day was the same as the one that preceded it and that which would follow. Whatever the cause, it was undeniable that Professor Snape needed a change, a break from the unfulfilling duties he now served and the endless stream of pathetic children that trudged through his life in a blur of ineptitude and defiance. 

Making one more lazy circuit of the room, barely having the energy to even humiliate a struggling Gryffindor, Severus was about to return to his desk and the mountainous pile of disappointing essays that awaited his slashing red mark, when something caught his attention. In the corner of his eye was a spark of brilliant and fiery red, a mass of wild spiral curls, each one as tiny and tightly wound as a cork screw. _Ah yes, Miss Frost, the latest prodigy to grace these halls, though thankfully devoid of the Gryffindor brashness, though I am not entirely certain that Ravenclaw's are truly much of an improvement_, he pondered as he detoured from his destination. Circling the room once more he came to rest at the back of the classroom, using his knowledge of the nuisances and secrets of the shadows to hide himself away if only momentarily. Ignoring the rest of the room enough that it merely lingered on the edge of his attention, soft and unobtrusive as a gentle spring breeze, he let his focus settle completely on the Ravenclaw seated across the room. The dim light of the several torches that flickered about the room alighted on the mass of her hair, _Not so unlike the disastrous tangle of hair that graced another thorn in my side_, he mused as he watched the light play upon that bright splash of red.

The young woman in question was Elizabeth Frost, known simply as Liz to her friends who knew that beneath the sharp intelligence known to run rampant in Ravenclaw, was a warm and caring personality that could easily turn the tears sadness of others into tears of laughter. But there was something that none of her friends knew about her, a secret that she had kept close for almost three years, a hidden secret that she guarded with her life and would never reveal to a single living soul, or dead for that matter, for everyone knew how much the ghosts and portraits loved to gossip. And it was at that moment that she was pondering this secret, her mind moving almost lazily over the jumble of thoughts drifting around the inside of her skull, each one like a tickling feather against her brain. The potion before her, bubbling not yet dangerously so on the table top, had long ago been forgotten while her delicate and pale chin rested in the warmth of her hands, her deep ocean blue eyes resting unseeing upon the Potion Professor's desk. So immersed in her thoughts was she that she failed to notice the subtle movement of the heated air around her, a cooling breeze surrounding her like icy fingers while a long and dark shadow fell over a corner of her desk. It wasn't until his silken sneering voice rang out in the cavernous room that Liz was effectively pulled from her consuming thoughts.

"Pray, do explain to me Miss Frost, why you would choose to pursue Newt level Potions if you plan to do little more than day dream in my classroom?" His voice was like a cube of ice sliding down her spine, raising gooseflesh along the lines of her body, and causing her muscles to tense in both fear and a hint of exhilaration.

"I… I…" she began in a stammering and weak voice, her blue eyes wide and wild like those of a rabbit staring up into the snarling face of a wolf. It was this expression upon the faces of his students that Severus both adored and despised all at once, that look of pure terror that caused the blood to drain from their faces, only to rush back a moment later with vengeance as embarrassment overtook them.

"Yes, Miss Frost?" he pushed as he adopted the typical stance of aloof boredom, his lithe arms folding across the broad expanse of his chest while a delicate and sleek black eyebrow arched questioningly. Anyone who had ever suffered through Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry knew that look all too well, it was often the look that would seal your fate and entail at least a week of detentions spent scrubbing out the vilest and most disgusting cauldrons known to Wizard kind. And now Liz was trapped beneath that look, searching her muddled mind for a response that would perhaps at least soften her punishment a little, for there was no true escape from the wrath of the Potions Professor.

"Kneazle got your tongue Miss Frost?" Professor Snape teased in an even voice that lacked even a hint of the humor his words foretold. When the silence stretched out another moment longer, becoming as heavy and thick as the heat that still streamed from multiple cauldrons about the room, Severus spoke once more in a crooning tone that was dark and rich like chocolate. "I thought not, I suggest that you get back to work on the lesson at hand, though I shall be amazed if you manage to salvage _that_ mess" indicating with a sneer of contempt the thick brown sludge that had accumulated in the bottom of Liz's cauldron.

"Yes Professor" was all that Liz could utter in reply, the infuriating heat still blazing proudly in her cheeks like a flag of her humiliation while snickers rose up about the room. Professor Snape lingered for a moment longer, watching down the length of his crooked nose as Miss Frost rose solemnly to her feet and began investigating the catastrophe that had once been an Aging Potion. Heaving a sigh of frustration at her thoughtlessness she watched from the corner of her eye as her Professor moved away and turning sharply on his heel in a flurry of black robes barked at the rest of the room,

"Back to work class! Concentrate on your own potions or you shall be accompanying Miss Frost for detention tonight." A few groans and grimaces floated about the room as the rest of the students quickly found the preparation of ingredients and mixing of their own potions exceadingly interesting.

A sudden movement behind her and a heavy press of cool air against her back brought a surprised _eep!_ from Liz's lips as she managed to fight off the urge to jump in fright. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine wafted around her, light and enticing as the Potions Professor hovered barely inches from her.

"Oh and Miss Frost, I assure you that you will find no universal secrets hidden in the view of my backside" he spoke slow and silken in her ear, the heat of his breath flowing over her once again florid and flushed skin, the warmth of his exhalations curling in the soft tendrils of her wild curls that brushed against the tip of his nose. "Eight o'clock_sharp_, do not be late" he whispered, his tone holding a mountain of promise that his words assured her would not be delivered upon. And then he was gone, moving like a stalking shadow, swift and silent, appearing moments later at his desk, his head bent down to mark the essays before him. For the briefest of moments Snape cast his obsidian eyes upwards to glance through the curtain of his inky black tresses to lock upon her, the barest trace of a grin curling the full softness of his lips before he once again focused on the parchments before him. Allowing her breath to flow past her lips in an unsteady shudder Liz glanced about the room furtively to see if anyone had seen the almost intimate exchange between them. Once she was satisfied that everyone had been far too interested in their own potions she felt a certain amount of tension flow from her body, though in its stead sat a heavy knot in the pit of her stomach as she thought of the evening that now lay ahead of her.


	2. Chapter 2

Mmm Lucius... that is all I have to say about this chapter :D

* * *

Much had changed at Hogwarts after the death of Albus Dumbledore, but the halls were no longer mired but his unfortunate death, rather he was remembered for having committed the ultimate sacrifice, and in the process had effectively cemented the freedom of Severus Snape, and even more surprisingly Lucius Malfoy. Several years had passed sine the likes of Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had passed from the halls of Hogwarts, and yet Severus had remained, continuing to attempt, more often in vain than not, to impart at least a small amount of intelligence to the brats that filled his classrooms year after year. It was a well known fact that the dour Potions Professor reveled in tormenting his students and baiting his colleagues, all the while with his smug and yet wholly secretive smirk upon his face; but the true mystery that had left many minds puzzled was why he continued to stay. Dumbledore had been dead and gone for almost ten years now, the Dark Lord falling barely a year later at the hands of the Golden Trio and the Order of the Phoenix, and still Severus continued to teach Potions to the new rounds of sniveling children. Shortly after the end of the war he had been granted a full pardon, all of his past digressions cast to the wayside, he had even been given an Order of Merlin First Class for his enduring efforts in the war, and the daily risks he had suffered by posing as a double agent for the Order. Of course, even Severus' almost begrudging return could not cause as much shock and whispering amongst the students as the grand entrance of Lucius Malfoy into the Great Hall followed by the announcement of Headmistress McGonagall that he was to become the latest DADA Professor, for who else could be better suited to the subject than the Order's other most prized and instrumental spy? That had been five years ago, and still Lucius taught Defense Against the Dark Arts with a burning passion hidden beneath a mask of aloof superiority, it indeed seemed that the curse upon that position had been quashed once and for all. 

Firelight flickered almost lazily in the grate, casting dancing and lurching shadows around Lucius' cozy yet still subtly opulent office. Reclining languidly in one of the dark leather arm chairs before the fire he gazed across the hearth at the man sitting before him, his sleek golden brows drawn together in an expression of curiosity and perhaps a hint of concern.

"Something bothering you, friend?" he asked in an even tone that flowed silken and luxurious in the warm air. For a long while he didn't receive an answer, the dark and brooding man opposite him continuing to stare unseeing into the tumbler held loosing in his lithe and pale fingers. As though starting from a dream, Severus sat up straighter in his own chair, casting a glare into the fireplace before glancing up to look his old friend in the eye.

"Nothing of consequence" Severus muttered sullenly, his eyes quickly dropping down to the floor, his own black brows meeting in a frown as his obsidian eyes stared fixedly at the fine Persian rug beneath his feet.

"Come now, Severus, no secrets" Lucius attempted in a light and friendly manner, wishing to draw his friend and colleague from his melancholy stupor. However, Severus remained silent, slipping once more deep into his thoughts, his brow deeply wrinkled while his lips curled back in the trace of a snarl, the drawn lines of his face hinting at the confusion rooted deep within his mind. Long and quiet moments drew out between the pair, looking so much like polar opposites, one fair and undeniably handsome, and the other dark and mysterious, the only sound in the room that of the crackling fire and the wind that railed against the windows. For a long while Lucius did not speak again, he simply sat quiet and still, reveling in the absence of chattering children as he slipped into a sense of comfort and contentment, but still he felt the presence of his oldest and dearest friend like a heavy weight against his mind, the malcontent radiating off of the man in choking waves. Resting his head against the back of his chair feeling the warmth of the fire against his legs, Lucius gazed through the haze of his own golden lashes at Severus, breaking the silence with a question that held much more meaning than the simple words could ever convey.

"You miss him, don't you?" The sudden interruption caused Severus to stir almost uncomfortably in his chair, his drowning pool eyes rising from the rug for a moment to flicker over Lucius' pale and sharply handsome features.

"Whoever do you mean, Lucius?" he asked with a soft hint of irritation at having his thoughts disturbed that was also chased with the beginnings of curiosity.

"The Dark Lord, of course" Lucius replied in a flat tone that could be used to talk about something as innocent and benign as the weather rather than the cruel and twisted madman that had ruled their lives for far too long.

"Don't be absurd!" Severus scoffed in reply with an indignant snort to affirm how ridiculous he found the notion. "How could anyone possibly miss living on edge for years, wondering if the next day would be your last, if you would ever be free of the tyrant's rule, or if you would waste away your life in fear and darkness?" he continued with an equally emotionless tone, though the tightening around his eyes and paling of his lips gave away the fear that still lay coiled tightly around his heart.

"I don't mean the man himself you dolt, I suffered under his rule just as much as you, I feared for my life and that of my family as much as you feared for the children you guarded."

"Then what do you mean, _precisely?_" Severus asked with a touch of venom in his voice, his expression completely shuttered and revealing nothing, which in itself spoke of much more than he realized.

"What I mean, dear friend, is what now? What do the likes of you and I do with ourselves now that the threat has been eradicated?"

"You seem to be doing rather well for yourself" the dark man replied with a barely concealed snarl, a shadow of his usual derisive and malicious self flickering across his face for a brief moment, before it was once again swallowed by the sense of dejection that had begun to consume him in recent years.

"Indeed, I am quite content with teaching, but you Severus, you have disliked this job for almost as long as you have been doing it" Lucius said smoothly, ignoring the flash of scorn that flitted across this friend's features.

"As hard as you may find it to believe, Lucius, I do not in fact dislike teaching as much as everyone believes. It is merely the idiotic children I am forced to teach that displeases me." A silken and almost purring laugh filled the room as Lucius closed his eyes for a moment and chuckled heartily, the golden firelight dancing across his face, highlighting the elegant curve of his cheeks and fullness of his rosy lips.

"Well, at least we know exactly what it is that you despise so much about being here" Lucius continued through the soft remnants of his chuckle, "but seriously, have you never enjoyed imparting your vast knowledge to these children? Have you not reveled in their eagerness to learn?" A snort of sour amusement instantly greeted Lucius' questions while Severus was unable to hold back the sneer that twisted his lips, revealing a small flash of white teeth.

"While the little miscreants may be eager to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, I can assure you Lucius, that they hold no such fervor for Potions."

"Was there never a bright young mind that truly desired your knowledge, not even one whom you could lavish your experience upon?" Lucius pushed with a speculative raise of a single sleek brow as he leaned forward to rest his elbows upon his knees.

"No" was Severus' instant and sullen reply, his eyes instantly falling to stare determinedly at the polished toes of his boots.

"No? I find that incredibly hard to believe, in fact I recall you once praising a particular individual" Lucius continued, his voice trailing off as he watched the emotions flicker over Severus' face, first the softness of pride and pleasure, quickly chased away by the hard edges of scorn and disappointment.

"There was perhaps one…" he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his mood quickly becoming as dark as the hair that fell around his shoulders like a thick curtain, save for the single stark streak of white that seemed to erupt from his left temple.

"Indeed?" Lucius mused, his own voice soft and teasing as he sat back in his chair with a fluid grace, his lips curling back in a self-satisfied smile.

"But that does not matter, she is of little consequence now" Severus muttered dejectedly, his tone exposing his deep disappointment and helplessness at the situation.

"Oh?" Lucius continued to push, determined to glean some kind of confession from his long time friend.

"Yes," was the only clipped and gruff reply that flowed from the Potion Master's tightly pursed lips, his eyes raging with a rising anger that equaled the nearby fire with heat and unpredictability.

"How so?" the blonde asked, grasping his friend's moment of vulnerability and weakness as a way to draw the truth from him, to force Severus to face his own feelings and move on.

"She threw her life away. So many things she could have done, so many places her knowledge could have taken her, but she cast it all aside" Severus mumbled, barely conscious that he had even admitted that much out loud; let alone to a man who until his dying day would remain a calculating and manipulative Slytherin regardless of which side of the war he had truly fought upon.

"And how _is_ Miss Granger these days?" Lucius asked in a drawling purr, his finely boned hands clasped beneath his chin, slowly caressing the barest trace of golden stubble that scratched against his fingertips.

"Its Mrs. Weasley these days" Severus replied grumpily, his tone grating and angry, little more than a growl.

"Ah yes, how could I forget?" Lucius mused with amusement, closely watching and scrutinizing the set of Severus' shoulders and the pinched look of his features.

"Like bloody hell you forgot Lucius, you have one of her red-headed brats in your second year class!" he exclaimed with a snarl, a flood of color rushing to his cheeks as he fought to bite back the sudden rush of anger that seethed within him.

"Of course, little Harry, quite the bright young man, though he does have the annoying penchant for waving his hand at every question" Lucius said, his voice warmed with the hint of a chuckle that lingered heavy and thick like honey at the back of his throat.

"A trait he inherited from his mother I assure you, she was always insistent upon proving what a little know-it-all she is, while Mr. Weasley never showed an ounce of respect or determination where his education was concerned" Severus replied sulkily. "And Merlin only knows why they insisted on naming him after _that_ prat" he continued with exasperation.

"You would have preferred he be named after a _real_ hero, someone who sacrificed everything in the name of what was good and true? Someone who fought to protect his mother at every turn, someone who would have done _anything_ to protect her?"

"Yes" Severus replied in a breathy whisper, his hands fiercely clutching the empty tumbler until his knuckles turned white and the glass threatened to shatter in his fingers.

"And why Severus, should little Harry have been named after you rather than the Boy-Who-Lived?" Lucius asked softly, slowly, weighing his words carefully so as not to startle the man before him and break the moment of confession.

"Because she owed me that much!" Severus hissed vehemently, his lips pulled thin and pale in his anger as he glared at his hands, snarling at his own reflection in the sculpted glass. "I did everything to protect her, I fended off the flea infested criminal Black and stared down his disgusting werewolf companion to save her, and _this_ is how she repaid me. Throwing away everything I had ever taught her, everything I ever did for her, all of it to fill the world with another brood of squalling Weasley's!" he cried as he rose to his feet and threw the glass into the fire which leapt violently as glass rained down on the hearth. Seething with barely restrained anger, Severus rested his head in his hands as he leant his elbows upon the broad stone mantle above the fire, the still wildly dancing flames casting almost painful heat on his legs. Slowly, cautiously Lucius rose to his feet, lingering for a moment in front of his chair before crossing the few feet between them to rest a reassuring hand upon Severus' thin shoulder.

"You could have prevented it" he spoke softly, wincing almost unnoticeably as he felt Severus stiffen beneath his hand.

"Don't be disgusting Lucius, she was my student and I old enough to be her father" he responded tersely, his voice tight with anger and sadness.

"She was no longer your student after the war…" Lucius began in careful tones only to be cut off by Severus as he spun quickly on his heel, moving swiftly from Lucius' touch as his slender face twisted into a mask of rage.

"No!" he spat with a growl, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Severus" Lucius began pleadingly, begging his friend for a moment of understanding.

"No, Lucius, I will discuss this no further, I will not submit myself to this form of vile torture" he replied in a weary voice as his breathing slowed and his expression once again swam beneath the mask of calm indifference. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a detention to serve. Goodnight" he finished in clipped tones before he turned and quickly strode from the room.

Sinking desolately into his chair once more, Lucius cast his pale eyes about the shadowy room, his mind twisting and turning as he waved his hand lazily towards the shattered glass at his feet while murmuring a dispassionate "_Reparo_." For a long while he sat in since, deep in thought as he absently ran his fingers over the light stubble on his cheeks, curling his fingers under his chin as he gazed into the fire until it was little more than subtly glowing embers. He decided resolutely that somehow he would find a way to make his friend happy; somehow he would repay his debt to Severus for rescuing him from a life of savage brutality.


End file.
